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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22823512">Picking flowers back up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherezadeS/pseuds/SherezadeS'>SherezadeS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Friends, Gen, One-sided Jaskier/Geralt, Past Geralt/Yennefer, Post-Episode: s01e06 Rare Species, enemies to frenemies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:35:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22823512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherezadeS/pseuds/SherezadeS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A month after the dragon hunt, Jaskier and Yennefer's paths cross. They end up travelling together.</p><p> </p><p>"I’m a little surprised you didn’t write a song about the dragon…” She's not sure why she's engaging him in conversation when he so clearly dislikes her. She refuses to believe it has anything to do with the witcher, and what his bard must know of his whereabouts.<br/>Jaskier shrugs.<br/>“I tried to get the story from the dwarves, but they saw as little as I did of the action. Apparently they were watching were they stepped when <em>someone</em> froze— wait, you were there!! You saw everything!!” He hastily sits down and opens his bag, digging around for his book and quill. “<em>You</em> can tell me what happened!!!” He can finally put that epic tale to use! Oh, how sorry he was to have missed on it!<br/>“Geralt didn't tell you?” She hesitates for a second, and then takes the seat across from him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>226</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys! This is my first fanfic for this fandom, and it's based only on the Netflix series. I've never played any of the games and I'm just starting the first book...</p><p>I'm a bit of a slow writer, so I won't be making any promises about when I'll update next, but hopefully it won't be much more than a week. I have sooo many ideas for this fic, you wouldn't believe it!</p><p>I'm not a native english speaker, so I apologise for any mistakes, this work is unbeta'd.</p><p>Please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A month after the dragon hunt Jaskier is still travelling through Caigorn. Not because he's hoping Geralt will look for him to apologise or any other ridiculous fantasies, he's simply never been so far north, and probably never will again. </p><p>He is at yet another inn, singing his latest song. It's turning into a hit, he can tell, every minstrel and troupe will be repeating it throughout the continent soon enough. It's painful to sing, but already three different barmaids at three different taverns have eagerly offered to console his broken heart and try to make him forget about any kiss but their own. He doesn't bother to correct their misinterpretation of the song, and spends some lovely evenings between their tights, soothing his sorrows. And he thinks this evening it's promising to end similarly, if all goes well. </p><p>He starts with some of his livelier tunes, calls the attention of everyone in the tavern to himself, gets them singing along to his most famous pieces, collects good coin from it. As his audience gets progressively drunk and inattentive he switches his tales to those of heartbreak. Just a few songs, just for the widowed barkeep that offered him a free of charge, terribly small room if he would bring in some patrons. And for his daughter, with the lovely almond eyes that haven't stopped watching him since he walked in. </p><p>"~A storm breaking on the horizon, </p><p>of longing and heartache and lust.~" </p><p>The verse is accompanied by the creak of the opening door and an arrival, despite the late hour. If he were a worse bard he'd probably miss a note at the sight of the woman making her way to the bar. Black hair, violet eyes, and a fur lined travel cloak. </p><p>"~She's always bad news. </p><p>It's always lose, lose. </p><p>So tell me love, tell me love, </p><p>how is that just?~" </p><p>Yennefer talks briefly with the owner and then stays by the bar and watches him. Jaskier does his best not to look in her direction, and just keep singing. Now, for every eager look the barmaid throws at him, she also steals a glance at Yennefer. </p><p>The witch is unnaturally beautiful, and clearly interested in the bard —tought she is wrong about her motives—, and there’s no way she can compete with her. </p><p>By the end of song, she’s already stopped showing her interest, and Jaskier wants to bang his lute against a table in frustration. Instead, he moves back to the table where his bags are, and places it carefully in its case.</p><p>“Hello Jaskier.”</p><p>Yennefer leans against the table and blocks his escape route to the rooms. </p><p>“Geralt’s not here.” And he very much does <em>not</em> want to deal with her. “So…” he tries to step around her but she doesn’t move. </p><p>"Interesting song." She tilts her head to the side in faux curiosity, eyes sharp as daggers. "Who is it about?" </p><p>It occurs to Jaskier, for the first time, that she might not appreciate starring in one of his ballads, and that —considering how dangerous she is— he should have taken that into account before now. </p><p>"Ah well… It could be anyone really, you see… Just a… Just a boringly generic song, with no mentions of any names!" </p><p>"I hope you're not trying to take me for an idiot…" </p><p>"You are if you think the people can understand what's it really about when they have no idea of our history." He's a little bitter, he'll admit, about his art not being interpreted correctly. "Trust me in this, they all think I wrote it for a woman I loved and that broke my heart." </p><p>Is he… reassuring her? Gods, he needs to get out of here. She does look a little less threatening, so he can probably escape now. </p><p>"Still, I’m a little surprised you didn’t write about the dragon…” She's not sure why she's engaging him in conversation when he so clearly dislikes her. She refuses to believe it has anything to do with the witcher, and what his bard must know of his whereabouts. </p><p>Jaskier shrugs. </p><p>“I tried to get the story from the dwarves, but they saw as little as I did of the action. Apparently they were watching were they stepped when <em>someone</em> froze— wait, you were there!! You saw everything!!” He hastily sits down and opens his bag, digging around for his book and quill. “<em>You</em> can tell me what happened!!!” He can finally put that epic tale to use! Oh, how sorry he was to have missed on it!</p><p>“Geralt didn't tell you?” She hesitates for a second, and then takes the seat across from him. She fancies that the witcher was left heartbroken and incapable of speaking of her, after she left him. She gestures the barmaid for something to drink. He probably just got back on his horse and left to find the next monster without looking back. </p><p>“Well, he… We decided to part ways. Permanently. I'm not the most useful travel companion, and he never really cared much for music… Even if I did save his reputation! You know, it's thanks to me that he's the Butcher of Blaviken no more. Not that he ever thanked me for my efforts…” The barmaid sets two tankards of ale on their table and Jaskier stares into his bitterly. He looks up, suddenly. “Oh! I could make the song about you!” Yennefer looks unimpressed but he goes on, staring into the distance, already composing in his mind. “You must have had as much of a hand in winning the battle as Geralt!” He moves his hands in grandiose gestures as he speaks. “A deadly witch, as beautiful as she is dangerous! She can't have children of her own but she saves a nesting mother!” </p><p>It's a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. Every moment spent in the company of this crazy woman he's in danger of another dagger to his penis, but he needs good songs, good stories, if he wants to eat. He cannot go back to the empty poetry he wrote before Geralt. He turns to look at her with what he hopes is a convincing smile. </p><p>“Or, or not.” He shrugs when he sees the expression in her eyes, hands raised in surrender. </p><p>“No one wants to hear about a woman's heroics, bard, no matter how pretty a lie you can spin.” It’s an amusing idea, she’ll give him that, but a ridiculous one nonetheless. She takes a long drink of ale to better hide her smile. </p><p>Well, no one had wanted to hear about a witcher either, and it had made Jaskier famous. It had gotten him invited to royal courts, plenty of coin and his choice of lovers. All he needs is some good source material, and a mage must have some interesting stories to tell. </p><p>“Well, who knows. Maybe they just need a woman that can change their minds. Where are you headed next?”</p><p>She hesitates. Nothing she has tried to get her fertility back has worked, according to the dragon nothing ever will. She is barren, and there’s no way around it. She’s not sure what is she meant to do now, beyond accepting what she cannot change, but there is <em>one</em> thing she’s sure of. She is <em>not</em> going back to Arethuza. Life has more to offer, she’s sure, she just needs to discover what would please her. </p><p>And curse it all, she is seriously considering what it could be like, travelling with the bard. What has she got to lose, anyway? And it doesn’t have anything to do with Geralt, she tells herself, or with clinging to something that would remind her of him. Though that may be the reason behind <em>Jaskier’s</em> offer.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The following morning Jaskier thanks the barkeep for his hospitality and makes his apologies for his sudden departure. Yennefer is already outside when he’s finished.</p><p>“This has got to be the worst decision of my life.” She says in lieu of hello, as she readies the late Sir Eyck's horse. “I have no need of a bard.” Or any kind of companion, really.</p><p>“Well, it's probably the worst decision of my life too,” responds Jaskier. “You are insane, you tried to kill me!”</p><p>“I never had any interest in killing you, bard.”</p><p>She mounts the horse and starts riding away from the tavern. Jaskier follows after her looking confused.</p><p>“I had thought witches could do that… magic thingy. With the portals.” He looks up at her. “Or are you not talented enough for that?”</p><p>“You surprise me, bard. No one that’s heard your singing would think you knew what talent is.” </p><p>“You’re… you’re still not making any portals!” he accuses. “So I guess I must be right.”</p><p>She scoffs, her eyes not moving from the road.</p><p>“And a portal to where, would you have me open? To where are you in such a hurry to get to?” </p><p>Yennefer herself has absolutely nowhere to go. She's spent the last weeks strolling alongside the mountains, selling spells just to have something to do with her days. She leaves one town dry of coin and moves to the next. None of them had anything good to offer. </p><p>Jaskier babbles a few aborted answers before eventually shutting up. Not for good, only for as long as it takes them to lose sight of the little village. He’s strumming idly on his lute when he dares ask about her family and how she came to be a sorceress.</p><p>She glares down at him from atop her horse.</p><p>“That is one tale you won’t be singing about.”</p><p>Jaskier sighs loudly, exasperated at being refused yet another story. He keeps walking beside her horse, playing a tune that he changes every few notes, trying to decide a melody. </p><p>She finds herself surprised at how uncomplicated this is. Jaskier seems incapable of being quiet. When he tires of singing he starts humming, when he tires of humming he starts talking. But he doesn't demand any kind of response from her, and looks a little startled whenever she comments on something he's said.</p><p>They stop at midday to eat. Their meal is simple but unhurried, bread and cheese, and some berries Jaskier collected as he walked. When they're done, Yennefer begins to explain Borch’s reappearance, the golden dragon, the eggs, and the battle. Jaskier scrambles for his book to take notes, and scribbles down everything she says, hardly needing to press her for details. He thinks he might grant poor Sir Eyck of Denesle a nobler death, and have him be the hand that wields the sword. He begins working on 'The tale of the golden dragon' as soon as they get back on the road, and by nightfall his head is full of rhymes, twisting and changing, trying to settle themselves down in the perfect order. And though Yennefer tries to hide it, Jaskier can see she is amused by some of the verses he comes up with. </p><p>Yennefer's tent is built with the flick of a wrist, a trick he's already seen on the mountain but still impresses him. </p><p>"I think I can hear running water," she says. "I'll take the horse and bring back food. Can you manage building a fire to cook?" she ask raising an eyebrow skeptically. </p><p>Jaskier strums his lute.</p><p>"~I'll collect the firewood and a fire </p><p>get roaring, my lady! </p><p>And make it hot enough to warm</p><p>your cold heart, my lady!~" </p><p>She snorts ungracefully and turns to lead the horse away by the reins. When she's gone, he carefully lays down his lute by her tent and stars collecting enough wood to last the night. She returns later with a watered horse and a large bird hanging from her hand. Jaskier is already sitting in front of a fire, lute once again on his arms as he waits. </p><p>"~Oh, and as danger drew closer</p><p>She stood daring and fierce. </p><p>Mighty as a golden dragon… </p><p>Something that rhymes with fierce!~" </p><p>"I never imagined a ballad could change so much as it's being composed," comments Yennefer while the bird cooks. "Did all your songs begin as insipid and lacking as this one?" </p><p>"Mock me all you want, but this one will be my greatest piece to date! I can feel it!" He's too restless with inspiration to feel affected by her jabs. </p><p>All through dinner, there are words crowding his tongue and his finger itch with unplayed music. It will be a restless night for him, filled as he is with the energy to create. But he still lays his bedroll by the fire, determined to get some sleep. </p><p>"Aren't you coming in?" </p><p>Jaskier turns to look at her, surprised. Yennefer stands at the entrance of her tent, her face blank and uninterested but the flap open to invite him in. The white tent is barely as tall as Jaskier, and about as long. It will put them close together. And it’s been a nicer than he expected day! Her presence not only tolerable, but even pleasant at times, now that he doesn’t feel like she’s stealing something away from him. But it wasn’t a nice enough day to want to be so uncomfortably close to her as they sleep. Still, it was a gracious offer and he will turn it down just as amiably, without any of the biting words they’ve been exchanging all day.</p><p>“I…”</p><p>“Just get inside,” she rolls her eyes and disappears inside.</p><p>Jaskier grabs his things and follows her. And he is left speechless, a rare occurrence. He gapes at the large bed, the table, the coffers. There's candles in every corner and braziers on each side of the bed, already burning. </p><p>"Please, feel free to pick up your jaw from the floor. You can leave your things over there…" she gestures at small table in a corner, and gets behind a changing screen. </p><p>Jaskier leaves his bag and his lute, and undresses down to his undershirt. Yennefer emerges in a nightgown, and they both move in silence. He lays down to sleep on the ground by the bed, the brazier warming his feet. He falls asleep almost instantly, much more tired than he'd thought after such a strange day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for the lovely comments! This is just a little in-between while I finish the second chapter...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In a small city north of Ard Carraigh, Geralt gets paid at the city gates for killing a kikimore, the alderman and the two guards with him blocking the entrance. Geralt is tired from tracking and fighting the beast, he's covered in blood and foul smelling mud. He's hungry too, he hasn't eaten in three days, since he got this contract, but he has no choice but to leave immediately. In silence, he mounts Roach and rides away.</p>
<p>He makes good time on the road, with no on-foot company to slow him down. And when he decides to stop for the night, no one complains about the lack of beds or the cold. He sets camp efficiently, and hunts down his dinner quickly, without anyone tripping through the woods after him and scaring off all the animals. </p>
<p>He eats, he makes sure Roach is settled for the night, and he lays down to sleep. In silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next day he finds a river and bathes, even if there’s no one to complain about the stench of blood. He washes his clothes and lets them to dry in the sun. He sits to wait, in silence, and the hours pass by slowly.</p>
<p>It’s been twenty eight days since Yennefer left and Ja—</p>
<p>He doesn’t think about her. He gets dressed in silence, and rides on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>No one tries to stop him from entering Ard Carraigh. He spends two days drinking in a corner of a tavern, listening to a man play the fiddle. No one approaches him with any jobs, so he drinks alone, in silence. On the third morning, he leaves Ard Carraigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He thinks about falling back and going East, to Kaer Morhen. He thinks about his child surprise, in Cintra. He doesn’t head for either. </p>
<p>It’s been thirty four days. </p>
<p>He makes camp in the woods, hidden from the road. He eats, he makes sure Roach is settled for the night, he lays down to sleep. In silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the sun rises, he’s slow to pack his things and get moving again. He stands close to Roach, hugging her for a long time.</p>
<p>“They say silence is golden…” He murmurs into her neck, petting her slowly. “I must be the richest man in the continent.”</p>
<p>It's been thirty five days.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>New chapter!!! I hope you'll like it! </p><p>(I'm a little embarrased by it, to be honest... I just want them to be friends sooo bad, I hope this doesn't look too forced...)</p><p>Again, thank you for all the comments and the encouragement!!! They're all appreciated!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Good morning!" Jaskier waves enthusiastically at the tired looking man walking down the path in their opposite direction. "Do you come from Yspaden? How much longer is it?" </p><p>"I passed Yspaden a day ago." The man stops in front of them, so Jaskier and Yennefer stop as well. "Where do you come from? Do you know if there was a mage there?" </p><p>"There weren't any mages in Yspaden?" asks Yennefer. A city that big should have one, even if it's not a capital. </p><p>"Apparently he left, and my wife is ill. The midwife and the priestess don't know what else to do…" </p><p>"Then today's your lucky day, my friend!" exclaims Jaskier. "You're in the presence of the powerful Yennefer of Vengerberg, renowned savior! She brought me back from the brink of certain death, and she can do the same for your wife!" </p><p>"Oh! Melitele bless you! Please I beg you to help her, I don't want to lose her." </p><p>Yennefer dismounts from her horse, and gestures Jaskier. </p><p>"Bard, a word." They move away from the traveller, Jaskier reassuring him with an easy smile. "Jaskier, when someone's life is in your hands, you don't make promises you might not be able to keep." She whispers furiously. "We don't even know what's wrong with her! She might be beyond any help!" </p><p>"Oh… I guess that makes sense. But I'm sure it will be alright… You'll make some money and I'll have a hopeful story to tell! </p><p>Yennefer turns away from him with a roll of her eyes. She marches back to the traveller and confirms that she'll take the job. </p><p>"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, milady! We don't have much to repay you with, but I can offer you the Law of Surprise." </p><p>"Oh! You must accept!" interrupts Jaskier "If you save her and she gives birth to twins, you could be a mother!" </p><p>"If that's the price of their lives, so be it." The man is desperate and determined. </p><p>"I'll examine her." She grabs the horse's reins. "Where is she?" </p><p>"Blaviken." </p><p>"Ah… Then I'm afraid this journey will be yours only." Laments Jaskier to the witch, already stepping back from them. "I never thought we'd be parting ways so soon, but if that's what destiny calls for…" </p><p>"Aye, I remember you now, bard!" exclaims the traveller. "You're the Butcher's Bitch! I threw a potato at you, that one time! </p><p>Yennefer has the gall to laugh, full-throated and happy. </p><p>"Yes, yes, people threw <em>all</em> manner of vegetables and fruits. The outfit I was wearing that day was never the same…" </p><p>"You could protect your clothes by going in disguise," suggest Yennefer with a wide smile, "as my servant." </p><p>The man nods quietly and promises not to reveal Jaskier’s identity, if his presence is a condition of the sorceress'help. </p><p>"Or I could be myself, the Viscount de Lettenhove, and you the mage in <em>my</em> service." </p><p>Yennefer nods and waves his hands over his clothes. </p><p>"This will be just a glamour," she murmurs, and Jaskier finds himself dressed in a depressingly simple grey tunic cinched at the waist and dark trousers. </p><p>"Now, wait a moment! I didn't agree to be your servant!" </p><p>His protests are ignored as a portal opens in the middle of the road. </p><p>"Be sure not to sing a word, Alfred," is all she says, as she shoves him towards the portal. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The woman, Dorota, is locked up in her room. Jaskier stays outside with the husband, Eryk, sitting at their table. </p><p>"I don't remember most of it really," he tells to his host. "But my neck was horribly swollen, bleeding, and I could barely speak! Now, losing your voice is tragedy enough for a bard, but the healer at Rinde said that I could die, if I didn't receive treatment from a mage. You can imagine how I felt! Oh, thank you," he accepts the offered drink and continues. "The search for her was confusing. I remember the strangest things, I must have been alutinating, I think. But when I finally woke up, I felt like new, and Yennefer was standing over me. Beautiful and... well, terrifying… And then she… did some not so nice things," he admits. There's a limit to how much he can embellish the story. "But I still have my life, even if she did take something else from me."</p><p>"Well, I think that sounds like it'd make a decent song," suggests Eryk. "You really need one. What did she take from you?" </p><p>Jaskier stays silent. </p><p>"So… Do you have any other children?" </p><p>"One boy," he says with a heavy sight. "His mother says he ran away after I left, to go looking for a mage too. She thinks he went south…" </p><p>That… could end in tragedy. There's not much he can say that won't sound like empty reassurances, but he's saved from answering by Yennefer's return. She takes Eryk aside and speaks quietly with him. </p><p>"So, will she be okay?" he asks once they're out on the street. "Can we leave now? Because I can't wait to be out of this undyed rags." </p><p>"They're hardly rags. Stop overreacting, <em>Alfred.</em>" She hands the mare's reins to him and walks ahead.</p><p>"They're rough. And they itch." He demonstrates by stretching his collar and scratching his neck. "You didn't have to make them itch!" He finally notices that they’re moving farther away from the entrance to the city. "So, will she?" he asks again, with real concern this time. </p><p>"We'll have to wait and see, I'll come back again tomorrow. So we better find somewhere to spend the night.”</p><p>The inn they end up at has a lively tavern in the ground floor, and a stable where they leave the horse after paying for some hay. </p><p>“Don’t forget to bring my bags inside, servant.”</p><p>Jaskier rolls his eyes at her amused smirk, but does it anyway. He doesn’t want any trouble with the locals, so he doesn’t risk drawing attention to himself by arguing. He even opens the door to the tavern for her, before walking in. He immediately moves to the counter, balancing both is belongings and hers.</p><p>"Good day! Two rooms, please." </p><p>"One room," corrects Yennefer, as she comes over to the counter as well. "And my servant will sleep on the stables."</p><p>"What!?" </p><p>"I need him to make sure nothing happens to my dearest Anica." She's still addressing the innkeeper. "I hope that's alright." She bats her eyes and smiles, and of course the servant can spend his night with the horses. </p><p>Yennefer takes the key to her room and moves upstairs, Jaskier drags his feet behind her with loaded arms. The room, to his further annoyance, has two beds. None of which he will be able to sleep in. </p><p>"Draw me a bath, servant," says the witch as soon as they're inside. </p><p>"You can do it with magic!" Angry, he lets all of their things fall on one of the useless beds. "It would take you less than a second." </p><p>"Mmmm, yes… But I'm in the mood for a hand-drawn bath."</p><p>He huffs loudly and leaves the room again, slamming the door on his way out. Downstairs, he uses her purse to pay for a bathtub to be taken to her room. And then he also orders himself something warm to eat and a whole jug of wine to with it, courtesy of his "mistress". When he's done with his food he decides that if he's to sleep in the stables, he will do it with the comfort of another jug of wine and his beloved elven lute, even if he can't play it. So he pays for a refill and moves back upstairs in search of his lute. </p><p>As he wobbles up the stairs, he thinks he shouldn't have drank so much so fast, it’s made his head hurt. Yennefer's purse on his pocket slows him down from how heavy it feels. He should spend some more of her gold. He could spend it on some company for the night, he thinks. </p><p>He's almost at the door, when he decides to turn around and leave, but first he has to move aside to let the maid leaving Yennefer's room pass. She's carrying two big empty buckets, and looks lovely with her cheeks blushing from exertion. He doesn't get to think anything else about her, because Yennefer is there in the doorway. </p><p>"Oh, you brought us wine, good idea." She moves back inside and Jaskier doesn't have any hurry to leave in search of some pleasure and a bed, so he follows. "I don't think I've ever had to wait so much for a simple bath." Her complain comes from behind a changing screen far too elegant to belong in a room like this one. </p><p>"Well, it does take time and effort to heat that much water…" And now that he looks around, the beds look too nice as well. And he's not sure if the carpet was here before. </p><p>"Well, don't keep it all to yourself. Pour me a cup." </p><p>There are crystal goblets on the table, and he brings them around to the other side of the screen. Yennefer is completely submerged in a tub that was surely wooden, and not silver, when it was first brought up. Jaskier fills a cup for her and passes it, trying his best not to look into the tub, and moves to sit in a bench by the wall, behind her. Yennefer moans into her wine goblet and sinks deeper into the tub, propping her slender ankles up over the edge. </p><p>"Wash my feet." </p><p>Jaskier looks up, but doesn't move. </p><p>"You <em>do</em> know I'm not actually your servant, right? </p><p>Yennefer turns her head around as much as she can without lifting it from the edge of the tub, where it rests. </p><p>“Come on, <em>Alfred.</em> I’m tired…”</p><p>“Oh, and I’m not? And why do I have to sleep with the horses? Why can’t I just take one of the beds?”</p><p>"Would you perhaps prefer that I let everyone know that you're the bard that sings the Butcher of Blaviken's praises?”</p><p>"Gods, I… I don't have to take this!!" He raises to his feet, his crystal cup smashing to the ground. "Just because I asked to write a few songs about you, doesn't mean you're Geralt's replacement!! No, I mean… You are. Geralt's replacement. But only as a muse. I didn't choose to follow you just so you could order me around and treat me like the shit under your shoe! I let Geralt treat me like shit for years…" He pulls his hair. "But <em>you </em>are not worth this. I don't know why I thought this could be okay." He finally moves, stomps towards the bed to pick his things up. "Safe travels…" </p><p>"Jaskier, I'm sorry." The bard halts. He can hear water dripping over the floor when Yennefer stands up suddenly. "It was only meant as friendly teasing. I guess I shouldn't have assumed our relationship to be friendly." There's the soft rustle of silk, and wet footsteps coming his way. "If you want to leave, that's fine. But before you do, I want you to listen to this…" She's right behind him, touching his arm gently. She waits for Jaskier to turn around before speaking again. "Geralt wasn't worth getting treated like shit, either. I hope you know that." </p><p>"I think I know that now. I didn't know it before. I didn't know it for a long time." He can't look up from the floor, too ashamed of this admission. Yennefer breathes out a long sigh. </p><p>"Come on."</p><p>She grabs him by the arm and gently pulls him towards the bathtub. Jaskier lets himself be led, but doesn't understand her intentions until she unties the knot of his belt and lets it fall to the floor. </p><p>"Whoa oh oh! Whaaaat are you doing?" </p><p>He tries to struggle as she takes his grey tunic off, but he's no match for her determination. </p><p>"I'll wash your feet." </p><p>She says it like it's the most natural thing in the world, for romantic rivals to bathe each other, and it shocks him enough for her to undo the laces of his trousers without resistance. </p><p>"This is completely unnecessary!" His voice does not break with a high pitch. His voice hasn't broken since he was sixteen, and it does not break now. </p><p>“It’s necessary,” she says, no room for arguments.</p><p>He undresses under her heavy stare, feeling small and inadequate. He steps inside the tub quickly, but the water doesn’t really do much to preserve his modesty. She doesn’t waste any time to pour some more warm water over his head.</p><p>"You really don't have to do this… There's no point in taking a bath when I'll wake up smelling like horse tomorrow." Yennefer scoffs softly. </p><p>"I was never going to have you sleep outside, you idiot." </p><p>"Oh," he relaxes his stiff shoulders a little. Yennefer takes a sweet smelling soap to his hair and washes it efficiently. And since he is an idiot, he can't help but ask, "Is this something you did for him?" </p><p>She stops for a second, and then continues, her hands gentler this time. </p><p>"No. We bathed together once, but I never washed his hair. Or anything else, really." She leans in around his head to try to catch his eyes. "Did you?" </p><p>"What? No!" He laughs a little, surprised. "I could usually force him to let me dress his wounds, when they were really bad, but he wasn't very keen on letting himself be vulnerable… around me, at least." He slumps some more in the still-hot water. "He was stubborn as a mule, didn’t accept any kind of help unless he couldn't move from blood loss, then turned around and called me useless. I even learned how to put on and take off armor!" </p><p>"Leather armor," scoffs Yennefer. She rinses his hair and stands up. "Not plate." She walks around the tub, her silk robe dragging over the floor. </p><p>"Still, I was a bit like a… bloody squire or something."</p><p>"And did he let you polish his sword as well?" She sits on the edge of the bath, by his side. Jaskier rolls his eyes at her. </p><p>"Ha, ha. Very clever." </p><p>"So he didn't." And she sounds honestly surprised. </p><p>"Of course he didn't, what did you think we…" He looks so perplexed at her insinuation, she can't doubt his honesty. "We were <em>just</em> friends." He can't help the bitterness in his voice. "Less than that, if you were to ask him." </p><p>"Were?" Jaskier looks away from her. "Are you not going to tell me what happened between you two, after I left?" </p><p>Jaskier gives a great sigh, relaxes deeper into the tub and props his feet up. He turns back to her with a cheeky smile. </p><p>"Weren't you going to wash my feet?" He wiggles his toes, and gets the soap bar thrown in his face. </p><p>"Wash your own feet, bard." She gets up with a smirk on her face. "I'm not your servant." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This fandom loves bathtub scenes, right? right??</p><p>#and there were TWO beds!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I've been feeling pretty uninspired and unmotivated because of the heat this past week, but I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yennefer wakes up to a room flooded with sunlight. Spring is not too warm here in the North, but she still has to wash off the sweat in a basin when she gets out of bed. Jaskier is still snoring in his bed, completely tangled in the sheets and snoring softly. She traces the shape of his body with her eyes and thinks about emptying the water basin on his head, but let's him have his sleep. After all, there's nothing else for him to do in this town. He can't help a pregnant woman, and he can't sing for his food. </p><p>She walks to Dorota and Eryk's house after breaking her fast, and is glad to see her improving already. They still need to be careful while they wait for her to go into labour. It won't be much longer now, until a big baby girl comes out. No twins, like Jaskier suggested, not that she was expecting any child surprises. It wouldn't be that easy for her. Something else will reveal itself when the time for payment comes. </p><p>“Everything seems to be fine for now, but you’re not yet out of danger,” she tells the still sickly looking woman. "Keep drinking this potion every morning, I'll have my servant deliver more to you." </p><p>It's hard to believe that Geralt had a child surprise all this time, and never spoke of it. Never even went back for them, to care for them like he should. Destiny has been punishing Geralt, she knows now, and she and Jaskier are lucky not to suffer any collateral damage anymore. </p><p>Jaskier. He must have known about the child surprise. He may even know where to find Geralt's child. She should get the information out of him later. For now, she stays with Dorota the whole morning. Easing her pain as much as she can, listening to her talk about baby names, and his brave eldest child, who she is hoping will return safe and sound soon.</p><p>She returns to the tavern for a late lunch. Jaskier is nowhere to be seen, but the barman informs her she has a few visitors waiting for her. He points a few people sitting about the room. Word of the presence of a witch has spread fast. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After much tossing and turning, when Jaskier finally feels awake enough to open his eyes, he's greeted by an empty bed on the other side of the small room. He tries to ignore the disappointment pooling in his stomach. Really, after his embarrassing overreaction last night, he can't blame her for leaving him behind in the middle of the night. It doesn't even hurt that much, not like when Geralt did it. </p><p>Then he wakes up some more and sees her things still spread around the room, and all her fancy spells still in place. So, she hasn't abandoned him him the middle of the night. Probably. He should be ashamed of himself, maybe, for underestimating her. No, he corrects himself, for projecting all of his issues with Geralt onto her. Just like he did yesterday...</p><p>And well, that was more than enough introspection for this early in the… morning? Afternoon? The smell of roasted potatoes is starting to rise from the floor below, so he could probably have some lunch if he gets up now. He ignores the tempting call of the luxurious silk robe left on the other bed, and walks downstairs, in the same sad, rough, itchy grey tunic and dark trousers Yennefer magicked for him. It doesn't have even the tiniest little bit of embroidery. </p><p>He pays his lunch from his own purse, and afterwards he goes to the stables, just to make sure Yennefer's still in Blaviken. Even if he knows, logically, that she doesn't need a horse to leave town quickly. Luckily, the black horse is in her stall, eating. </p><p>"Hey, girl…" He approaches carefully, and the mare lifts her head to watch him, and the apple he pulls out of his pocket. "We haven't been properly introduced yet... Anica wasn't it?" She allows him to pet him after eating the treat. "Who named you, I wonder… It doesn't sound like the kind of name that ridiculous knight would pick." </p><p>Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t receive any answers, so he let’s her be and wanders off soon enough. The marketplace is loud enough to be easily found, so he strolls through the stalls, admiring trinkets and baubles. </p><p>He has no intention to buy anything. That is, until he comes across the most beautifully crafted leather bound notebook. Oh, he really shouldn't, his current notebook is far from full. There's a little songbird carved on the cover, and the pages are perfectly blank, begging to be filled with poetry. But no, he already has a lovely unfinished book in his bag. It's pages full of Geralt. Songs about his adventures, secret poems about his beauty. The songbird book feels right in his hands, the leather soft, and the pages free of the weight of longing and heartbreak. </p><p>It's expensive, but Jaskier pays the price of a fresh start. It's not going to be as easy as this, stop being the White Wolf's bard, but he feels lighter. He explores the rest of the town with his new songbook clutched in his hands, and only returns to their inn when the sunlight starts to wane. He finds Yennefer sprawled on her bed. </p><p>"I've been receiving people all afternoon…" she groans, an arm slung over her eyes. "Why don't you get some dinner sent up for us?" she asks. "Please," she ads after a beat. </p><p>Jaskier goes downstairs without complaining. It's not like he can be useful in any other way right now. He returns with dinner for two, and wine for a dozen. </p><p>The table is full of potion ingredients, mortars, and bottles, so they put their plates in Yennefer's bed and eat there. And drink, quite a lot. </p><p>"I've always wanted to know, bard." She's laying on her side, propped up on one elbow, and wine goblet full. "What did you thought you were wishing for?" </p><p>"What? When?" Jaskier is beside her, sitting against the headboard, already feeling a bit dizzy. </p><p>"The djinn." </p><p>"Oh… Well, I asked for Valdo Marx to die of apoplexy, an-" </p><p>"Who?" She takes long drink from her cup. </p><p>"He's a… a poet, he calls himself." He waves his cup around, the wine would surely spill if it weren't magically contained. "Thinks he's so much better than me, just because I write for the people and he writes for noble cunts… Arsehole." He empties his cup and fills it back up. Yennefer's giggles bounce inside is head, and wow, he's drunker than he'd thought. She must be too, if she's giggling. "Then I-" </p><p>"Aren't <em>you </em>one of those noble- noble cunts?" She takes the bottle from Jaskier and fills her own cup. </p><p>"M'not…" he mumbles. "Why would I choose to live like a common man if I were a cunt? You know, I… Wait," he scrunches up his nose in concentration, trying to remember something. "Oh, it was before I made my fame. But there were times all I had to eat, was the food people threw at me!" He brings a hand to his chest at looks at her with wide-eyed, earnest, drunken sincerity. "It's the truth!" </p><p>“Fine,” she chuckles. “Not a cunt, then. And the second wish?”</p><p>“I asked for the Countess de Stael to take me back, with-”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“The Countess de Stael, pay attention!” His cup is suddenly empty again. He looks at it sadly. “She was… She was my lover at the time… She had dumped me, and I asked for her to welcome me back, wearing very little-”</p><p>"But didn’t you… didn't you think to ask for Geralt to…?" </p><p>"I didn't need to. This was before we met you, remember! I was conf- canfi- I was sure that it was only a matter of time for him to…" He gesticulates dramatically and ambiguously with his hand as he drifts off. Then, takes the bottle from her and drinks straight from it, gulping down wine. “And you? What would you have wished for? You know, other than fertility… Your other wishes…”</p><p>Yennefer drops her head to the bed and rolls to her back, staring at the spinning ceiling.</p><p>“I didn’t want anything else… I guess I would have waited, rather than, rather than blurting out the first three things that crossed my mind.”</p><p>“That answer is booOOORING!” He shouts, and is immediately hushed. He picks an unopened bottle to pass to her. “C’mon think about all the what-ifs!” He whispers, leaning in.</p><p>“I guess I… I guess I would probably wish for Geralt’s wish to be… uhm, stopped.” She clears her throat loudly, and asks him another question, before he can say anything about that. “And your third wish?”</p><p>“Stay young and pretty forever, obviously…” he yawns around his answer, and rolls off the bed.</p><p>“The crow’s feet aren’t so bad…” She watches him hop around, trying to get his boots off. She doesn’t have the energy to take off her own clothes. Her limbs feel heavy and she’s perfectly content right now, no need to move a muscle. “You make them look good.” Her tongue is one muscle that should definitely stop moving.</p><p>“M’sure you’ll make them look good too,” he collapses on his bed, eyes already closed, “in a few hundred years.”</p><p>"Don't fall asleep yet!" she demands. "There's something important I have to ask you!" Jaskier turns his head to look at her. "It was… I was thinking about it this morning…" </p><p>"It better not be about Geralt, I'm tired of talking about him." He yawns again. "Why do we, why do we always end up talking about him? Every conversation."</p><p>"We're both bound to Geralt. By destiny or by magic. At least what you had is real…" </p><p>"Nu uh!” He sits back up slowly, and waves a finger at her, scolding. “You’re not going to complain to me ‘bout how much worse you had it! It’s you and me now, so we’ll talk about us only.”</p><p>“You and I…” Yennefer makes the effort to move to the edge of her bed and sit there, across from Jaskier. Her good mood seems to have been ruined, and she wants to ruin Jaskier’s as well. “No destiny. No magic. But we're bound to each other by Geralt. Even if he's not here with us.”</p><p>“Not here! Precisely!” He jumps to his feet, and sways for a few moments from the sudden movement. “We’re trying to be friends, right?” He looks a little unsure. “I mean, I’m trying to be your friend…”</p><p>“Yes, I’m trying to be your friend too…” she says, looking up at him. But she’s not sure she was really trying before this moment.</p><p>“Right!” Jaskier smiles, confident again. “So- so our friendship is going to be… different. We’ll… uhm, do things together we could never do with… with- you know.”</p><p>“Like what?” She wants to scoff at his enthusiasm, but it’s contagious.</p><p>“Like… uuuuhhhmmmm… There’s this tournament in Maribor in Midsummer! Full of… of people, and noise, and fun, and noise, and people! And plenty of work for a bard of my talents, and he would never… You could come with me! I’ll show you around!”</p><p>“Sounds like fun,” she smiles and thinks about visiting Triss. </p><p>“And have you…” he covers his mouth with his hand and giggles like a child. “Oh I always thought it could be fun, to- to share a lover with a friend. Do you like women? We can choose a man, if you don’t, I’m not picky.” </p><p>She laughs hard enough to fall back. There are tears in her eyes, from laughing or from tiredness, she’s not sure. Jaskier returns to his bed and lays on his side, facing her. She does the same.</p><p>“Ok, you win.” Her eyes close on their own, and hides a yawn against her pillow. “We won’t ever, ever, ever, ever talk about him again.”</p><p>“Agreed! Now, how much longer for that baby to be born? I miss my lute, and she misses me.”</p><p>“Mmmmhh… Not long…” She makes a lazy sweeping gesture with her hand, and blows all the candles in the room.</p><p>“Gooood, gooood. I wonder what will the surprise be…”</p><p>“Oh!” She opens her eyes in the darkness. “I remember. What do you know…” She bites her lips. “Nevermind… Doesn’t- Doesn't matter anymore.”</p>
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